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ɪ. ꜱᴀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ... ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

SANTANA'S POV

Three months. It's been five fucking days since he came home and he's already going back to Greece for three months. His work is getting on my nerves. But hey, without him, I don't know if I would be in this beautiful house with my son. I love him I do, but I would be lying if I said I haven't already asked myself what it would be like if I met someone different. Maybe my life would have been different; I would see my husband every day, I would have friends and I would be a music producer. I don't work because Puck says my talent can be spotted and I would be known. And what says Santana Puckerman known says her husband Noah Puckerman known and that's what he wants to avoid at all costs. He's a secret agent so his identity must be secret. You're probably wondering how I know that? Well, when we were younger he wanted to be in the business and then one time I saw his card or something. Marcos has no idea about it, he thinks his father is a truck driver and I don't work voluntarily. It's horrible to lie to your son every day.

"I love you." He kissed me and left with his suitcase. He was still in my line of sight but I left anyway, without looking back. It hurts, I can't deny it, but lately I've been taking these a lot better. At the same time, it's been almost sixteen years, the age of my son. He wasn't even there the day he was born, he came home a week later. I can't blame him because we couldn't communicate under any circumstances. As for our marriage, we got married right after we graduated.

I went home when I heard a noise upstairs. Wait, what is that noise? A girl who- What the fuck!
I ran down the stairs and opened the door to my son's room without asking permission in no time.

"Marcos! What- "I turned around and saw the television with a scene that wasn't very Catholic.

"Mom! Knock before entering! "He hid something behind his back.

Oh God the smell, no way he can't-

"Smoking!? Are you seriously smoking?" He had his head down. My son smokes. My son smokes. What do I do? Puck can't help me now... Besides, my only family is them.

"Give me that. "I took his hands and walked to the door. " And then seriously, turn the porn up loud so I can't hear the lighter... " I sighed and walked out of the room.

On the one hand, I can't blame him. He's young and we all tried one of those stupid things at some point in our teens. But he's my son, I have to set a good example for him.

"You're not allowed to do that! "he shouts as he follows me. "Do you think I don't see your liquor bottles in the basement or even in your bedroom? I know you hide them when Dad comes home."

"Don't bring your father into this. »

"While I'm at school you get drunk, don't you? »

"You mean while you're using drugs? »

"Yeah right, while I'm doing drugs with your money. But you're so drunk that you don't see there's money missing from your wallet - "I turned around and slapped him.

It was the first time I slapped my son. My God... My tears began to flow as I approached him.

"Baby I-" He backed away.

"No, it's okay. " He took his jacket from the coatrack and went out.

I put my hand on my son... He's not wrong, I'm a drunk, but with him I was trying to get sober. I mean, I only get drunk at night when he's sleeping or when he's at his aunt Rachel's house, Puck's sister. But with him, I never got drunk. At least, from what I remember.

I'm a terrible mother.

This brought us a week later to the principal's office.

"Mrs. Puckerman, as you know, your son here has been coming to school intoxicated for the past two days. So in order to stop this, I suggest you make an appointment with the counsellor. Of course, he's not the only one who does this, but he's the only one who goes up on the cafeteria tables insulting the staff out loud. "This remark made me laugh, but I kept it to myself. "I'm not going to punish him, but it's his only warning. Got it, Marcos?" My son looked at the ground again. It's like Puck getting yelled at, it's cute.

"Marcos?" I asked.

"Yes, I understood. "He said nonchalant.

That's why today I find myself at the counselor's door waiting for my son like an idiot. I knew he wouldn't come, but I've been waiting for more than five minutes, I don't know why.

"Mrs. Puckerman?" I looked up to see a young blonde woman. Well dressed up... Very well, in fact... Shit, Santana shut up, I like her outfit. Yeah, I just like her outfit. I stood up and she held out her hand to me. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Fabray, the school counselor." Damn, her hands are so soft, I wonder what cream she uses.

"Hello, I'm Santana, Marcos mother..."

"...which is obviously not there. "She finished my sentence, which made me laugh that she laughed too.

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A/N Hi! First of all, I'm sorry for the spelling mistakes... But I hope you like this story. I will try to make the next chapter a little longer.